Ghost
by Blame Blam
Summary: Sam dies but refuses to get reaped because he wants to stay with Blaine. [Character Death]


No, don't ask what made me write this. But it's sad, very very very sad. I suggest you don't read this if you don't like _death_.

**Ghost**

Sam couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Mostly because he was standing in front of Blaine and the black haired didn't look up from the body he was kneeling beside. He kept shaking the person's arm, trying to give a heart massage or mouth-to-mouth resuscitation and calling his name.

Sam's name.

Sam must've fallen asleep and having a bad dream. But everything felt so _real_. He crouched next to his own body and put a hand on Blaine's arm. Blaine, who got more and more desperate.

People were screaming on the street around them. Somebody called an ambulance, others were trying to drag Blaine away from Sam's body. Sam had never understood why people did this; wasn't it more cruel to be separated than to have to see the lifeless body of a loved one? But they did, and they succeeded after a time because Blaine was too weak to do anything else than cry.

When the ambulance arrived the paramedics cared for both Blaine and Sam's body but they couldn't do much for the latter. Sam could have told them that if they'd listened. But nobody listened to him. If this wasn't the weirdest dream ever and he actually was dead then where the fuck were those chipmunks that would sing him a 'Happy death to you' song and accord him to the other side? Where was the stereotypical white light at the end of the tunnel?

Not that he'd wanted to leave. When the paramedics put Blaine in the ambulance next to the stretcher with Sam on it he got in, too. He sat next to Blaine, laid an arm around his shoulders and shot the paramedic a furious glance.

"It's only a three minutes ride, will you be okay alone back here?" the man asked Blaine.

"He is not alone", Sam said. "Just go away."

Blaine nodded slightly and wiped his nose with a tissue.

"In the hospital you'll bring him back, right? It's not unheard of, right?"

The man just threw Blaine an empathetic look and closed the doors.

"Damn, I thought they'd teach some sensitiveness in paramedic school", Sam said. He hugged Blaine tighter because the black haired got another cry attack.

"See, Blaine, I'm not going to leave you, don't be afraid."

"Oh God, Sam, why…. Why? Is this really happening?" Blaine sniffled. Then he leaned forward and took the hand of Sam's body.

"I love you, Please don't leave me, Sam, please! _Please._" The last word he almost chocked on, more tears leaving his eyes.

"I won't! Listen to me, Blaine!" Ugh, this was frustrating. Maybe he actually was dead because how else would hell look like if not being so close and still not getting noticed?

"You can't just… you can't. Please. I don't know what I should do without you." Blaine leaned against the car wall and pleaded to the skies. Not that it made sense since Sam was right next to him.

The rest of the drive consisted of Blaine sobbing and telling Sam he didn't know how to live without him. It was the most depressing thing ever, in the end Sam cried, too. When they stopped and the paramedic opened the door Blaine again asked him if they could bring Sam back now.

"Listen, Mr…?"

"Anderson."

"I'm sorry but your friend died from blood loss and brain injuries. People sometimes can be brought back after their hearts have stopped but this… I'm sorry."

He shook his head while his colleague got the stretcher out of the car.

"Where are you taking him?" Blaine quickly got out, too.

"We are going to need to know some formalities. If you'd be willing to fill out a form and…"

But Blaine didn't listen to the man and chased the one with the stretcher. Sam followed them, too. Inside a nurse took care for Blaine, talked quietly at him until he deflated and nodded. Eventually he sat on cold plastic chairs with a board and a pen in his hand, just staring at it.

Sam knocked against said chairs.

"Dude, it's so weird that I can feel how uncomfortable they are. Nobody can see me but I can see and feel everything. What a strange concept! If I ever meet the person who thought of this I'm going to ask a few questions."

Blaine didn't answer. After what felt like an eternity he pulled out his phone and called some people. When they arrived, Sam only got ignored more. But he was glad to see their friends caring for Blaine, people who could actually communicate with him.

Sam sat back and for the first time since he died he thought about himself. Where would he go now? What would he do?

As if reacting to him a woman that had just came through the door turned and came straight at him. Wait, she actually looked at him, too!

Sam jumped up. When the quite young, black haired woman came to a halt she looked at a paper in her hand.

"You must be Sam Evans."

"Are you God?"

"No."

"Oh. But I'm dead."

"Congratulations for noticing."

"It's quite hard to miss it when your bloody body is lying in front of you."

"You wouldn't believe how many people choose to not see that and act on as if they still life. Now, let's go."

"Am I going to hell? Or heaven?" Sam closed his eyes and hoped for the latter. Just last week had given some pennies to the homeless man on the Time Square that everyone always ignored, and the week before he had bought Blaine a DVD for no reason. (Yeah, okay, maybe with the ulterior motive they'd watch it together but present was present.)

"Oh, no, it's nothing like that. You'll see as soon as you're over there. Come on, just follow me."

"Wait! What about Blaine?"

He pointed to the black haired, who was surrounded by Rachel, Santana and Kurt. Latter filled out the form, Rachel tried to comfort Blaine and Santana showed her support by not making any snippy comments. Yet. If she was about to say something related to a trout heaven or something like that Sam wouldn't want to miss it. Hopefully it would make Blaine laugh.

"You can say goodbye, of course." She waved him to go on but Sam crossed his arms.

"Goodbye? And then? I'm not going to leave him."

The reaper woman sighed and rolled her eyes. "And here I was, thinking you'd be an easy job."

"I'm no _job!_ I'm a liv- uhm, dead human being!"

"Look. When you're on the other side and have adjusted you can visit your loved ones whenever you want. But we need to bring you there first."

"Uhu, who says you're not lying? First the no-heaven-or-hell thing and now that? Uh-uh. I'm staying wherever Blaine is."

"Fine. I can't waste my time on you, I have ten more people to get just in this hospital. If you change your mind, call this number." She gave him a card and stormed away. Sam looked at the card. MARY LORELEY PROF. REAPER IN CASE OF DEATH CALL 202084tg45

Sam frowned. Letters in a number? But he had other problems right now. He put the card in his pocket and sat down next to Blaine, stroking his back. Gee, he had missed the touch although it's just been a few minutes. How could he ever live – or be dead – without it? No, he wouldn't go anywhere.

As soon as Sam touched him Blaine gave a loud sob and threw himself back into Rachel's arms.

"Did Sam have a middle name?" Kurt asked, not looking up from the paper.

"No", Blaine cried.

"Health insurance number? Life insurance? Last will?"

"No last will", Blaine mumbled. "He only was – oh God! _Was!_ No, no!" Blaine got up and walked a few steps away.

"This can't be happening, okay? Sam, if this is a prank, resolve it _right now!_"

"It's not a prank. Why would I pretend to get hit by a car and be dead? How silly, Blaine, not even I'd think this is funny."

"Come on, Blaine, let's get home. You can't do anything for Sam here", Rachel said. "Or do they need to examine you first?"

"I don't know, they haven't said anything. But I was still on the pavement when Sam tried to get a cab and – oh!" Blaine sobbed and hid his eyes behind his hands.

"He's traumatized." Kurt nodded professionally at Santana. "He'll need therapy."

"Well, thank God he's got you, otherwise he wouldn't know what to do", Santana said, eyes rolling.

"Let's just go home", Rachel suggested.

* * *

The next days were exhausting. Sam tried to eat several things but they didn't help his hunger. Same with drinking. He could do it, no problem, but after having drunk a whole bottle of water he still was thirsty as hell. It got more and more frustrating and Sam's mood got more and more, well, appropriate for dead people.

Blaine just lay in bed and cried. Sometimes one of his friends came by and forced him to eat. Sam saw they were mourning themselves and he was all the gladder they helped Blaine. Even Santana seemed to be sad, and hadn't made one single trout heaven joke so far. Kind of disappointing, actually.

When she had left one day, a week after his death, Sam sighed and stared at the ceiling.

"You know, I'm staying so you don't have to be sad, so I really don't know why you cry all the time", he said to Blaine who was lying on the other side of the bed. "I'm growing weary."

"Then don't stay", a foreign voice said. Sam jerked up. There, in front of the bed, was Finn!

Oh my God, but Finn was – dead!?

Sam got up and hugged his friend that he had lost a few years ago.

"Wow, Finn, you're here? How great to see you again, wow!"

"I did the same as you, you know", Finn said when Sam let him go. "I stayed with Rachel. But it didn't help her, nor was it good for me. Staying between the worlds is no solution. People turn bitter and resentful because they are not where they are supposed to be. After a while you'll blame Blaine for all your misery and then you haunt him. He'll never be able to move on if you don't let him go."

Sam stepped back. "What? Are you even listening to yourself? I'd never blame Blaine, or _haunt_ him, come on! I love him. I can't leave him."

"I didn't say leave him, I said let him go."

"Same difference."

Finn didn't react to Sam's angry tone. He looked as if he'd understood and that was even worse.

* * *

The next day Blaine took the trouble of showering and Sam sat like the cliché ghost leaned against the wall beside the door and stared at another wall in front of him.

"Blaine, am I haunting you?"

No answer.

"I mean, I'm following you everywhere you go. Not that you go to many places, but still. Someday you'll want to. Someday you'll want to go on with your life. And I don't want to stand in your way, you know? I just…" Sam gulped and wiped away a tear. Great, now he was a weeping ghost.

"Maybe Finn was right and I don't belong here anymore. I want you to be happy without me, that's not it, I just… can't… _I_ can't be happy without _you_, you know? Don't think because I'm dead it's easier for me to let go. It's not. It's worse." Sam didn't care that he cried now because no one saw him anyway.

"I could stay forever. But you don't see me, you have no choice than to feel the separation. But how could I… go?"

The shower was turned off. While Blaine dried himself and put on clothes Sam looked at his fingers. Normal dead fingers.

"Does my presence drag you down or something?" he asked. "Would it be easier for you if I'd go? Tell me because then I go. For you."

Blaine walked past him and switched off the lights. Sam kept sitting in the dark, burying his face in his knees. This couldn't be what death was all about. Staying forever with the ones you've let behind, not making new experiences at all.

He had to let go, hadn't he?

* * *

Sam waited until Blaine had switched off the lights and settled down in bed. He always lie awake for many long minutes, thinking of Sam. It was the best chance to hopefully somehow reach him.

Sam glided close and stroked over Blaine's chest. The black haired took a deep breath, and before Sam could say what he had planned to say Blaine whispered: "Are you here, Sam?"

"Yes", Sam whispered back. "Of course."

"Am I going crazy?" Blaine asked. He opened his eyes and looked around but didn't fixate Sam.

This made things so much harder.

Sam took a deep breath.

"Look, Blaine. I didn't choose to die. And I wouldn't leave you now, too, but I fear I have to. You'll be okay, I know that. You'll live your life and be happy, and someday meet someone who will stay at your side until you're old and grumpy."

Sam laughed under his tears, imagining a grey haired Blaine who preached at his grandchildren.

"Why did you have to go, Sam, why?" Blaine sobbed again.

"I have no idea", Sam said. He kissed Blaine on the cheek. "Promise me you don't get hung up on me, okay? Otherwise I _will_ haunt you."

Blaine closed his eyes and sighed deeply.

"If you can hear me, Sam… I love you. Now and forever."

"I love you, too."

Sam cupped Blaine's face, ran his thumb over his cheek and gave him one last kiss. Then he rolled away and got up. Of course he looked back although he had panned not to. But eventually he pulled out the reaper's card and wondered how to call her. He decided to read the number out loud and it actually worked. She appeared where Finn had stood before, and behind her a small white light in what seemed like a long pipe.

"Okay, here I am", Sam said. "Is that the cliché light at the end of the tunnel?"

"Ah, you see the light, very good. So you're ready. But don't complain to me about clichés, it's up to you as what you see it."

"Well, I see a light… at the end of the tunnel."

The reaper nodded. "They usually do. It's because you entered the world this way, now you'll leave it this way."

"I… you mean dying is like being born just the other way round?"

"If you want to see it like that."

Oh, annoying reapers! Sam hoped he'd meet some less wise people over there.

He glanced back at Blaine, who seemed to be sleeping now, and smiled at him. They would see each other again, he knew it. And he was looking forward to it. But right now he thought to hear his grandma's voice. She had died when he had been ten and he really, really wanted to see her again. Suddenly the white light didn't seem so scary anymore, and in the exact moment Sam thought that it got bigger.

Sam took a deep breath, mumbled "See you soon, Blaine" and stepped into the tunnel.


End file.
